Wait,
by DarkHonda
Summary: KBOW, slightly AU, oneshot.


**Disclaimer:** Don't own Oliver, Katie, Hogwarts or any flying broomstick. JKR does.

**A/N:**_I don't usually write Harry Potter fics, but this is an exception. I hope you'd enjoy and leave a review. I apologize if it doesn't live up to your standards, as I said, it's my first Harry Potter fic._

_I would like to mention that this is **slightly AU**, it's **Harry's third year in Hogwarts** and **for this oneshot, Katie Bell is in her 6th year, Oliver, of course, in his seventh**._

**Wait,  
**by DarkHonda aka Tal

He was walking back to Gryffindor tower, his broom hung on his shoulder. Alone.  
It was late, a few hours after curfew, but fearless, he entered the Hogwarts Castle, walking silently through the Great Hall, only the echo of his steps heard. He wasn't frightful at all, neither Filch nor his bloody cat scared him, Snape couldn't threat him with a wiggle of his oily hands, Peeves couldn't make him hesitate and not even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could terrify him. At the moment he was the essence of coolness, a light breeze of security and most definitely, the best ruddy Quidditch Captain in this whole bloody castle.

He easily climbed the staircases that led him to the dear Gryffindor common room, didn't even make him pant from the effort of climbing the stairs. He was in a great shape, not enough to his opinion, but every girl in the castle would beg the difference; he was perfect in many ways, to them and them solely. All he wanted was to win the bloody Quidditch Cup, he worked very hard during the last three years to put up a team- a wonderful, great team that never let him down, he knew each and every one of them is a pure talent and he was furious, because the Quidditch Cup could've-should've- been his a long time ago.  
He let out an inaudible sigh and raised his gaze, there, with her friend, was sitting the Fat Lady, he noticed a few empty bottles of Rum near by but hasn't said a word about it. He waited silently until the Fat Lady's glazed eyes were placed on him.

"Fortuna Major," he said clearly and the door to the Gryffindor common room has opened, he smiled a thankful smile to the Fat Lady and her friend and entered. He noticed the common room was empty, after all it was way past curfew, or bedtime, both, actually, and he happily sunk himself into the large armchair in front of the fire, placing his broom on the nearby couch. What, for Merlin's sake, has gotten into him? Wasn't he the loudest, rudest (well, maybe except for Flint), heart breaking captain in the whole school? What was wrong with him?!

Maybe it was the fact it's the last chance to win that ruddy Quidditch Cup, or maybe because it's his last year in Hogwarts, period. Or maybe because it's the fact that he has to grow up and fly away from the warm nest that was Hogwarts? He couldn't tell, he didn't want to leave and every second in this amazing, enchanted castle looked like the last. Who knew what was out there? He shook his head violently, it's not the time to think of such rubbish, he had a Cup to win and it won't get to McGonagall's office by itself. He stared into the fire, plays running in front of his eyes, he didn't even hear when his pretty chaser entered the common room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Her blond hair was in a long ponytail and her eyelashes barely open, but she smiled when she saw him spacing off in his own little world. 'Probably Quidditch,' she thought fondly as she walked near his armchair and sat in front of the fire.

"Oliver?" she dared asking after a few minutes, waking up from his Quidditch haze, his chocolate brown eyes trailed to meet her blue ones and a small smile floated on his lips. He seemed so spellbound, so dreamy, she smiled at him.

"Hi," he managed to say, his heart was starting to beat rather fast in his chest, he never knew why but for some unknown reason for the last couple of months since school year has begun, his heart was doing feints in his chest every time he saw her. The feeling was rather exciting and refreshing, like floating, like flying, like the smell of the earth after the first rain. He found himself chuckling, he was never a poet.

"What are you doing up all by yourself?" she asked, a cheeky smile on her lips.

"I could ask you the same question, Katie," he replied enigmatically, Katie, her name made his whole body shiver, Katie…

"I woke up and had a really urgent need of hot milk," she said with a shy smile, for the first time he noticed she was wearing a red, long, t-shirt, a pair of worn out black trousers and doggie shaped slippers. He found it rather cute, smirking he pulled his wand from his trousers' back pocket and conjured a red tray with a cup of hot milk and three chocolate chip cookies. He smiled and put the tray on the near by table.

"Have fun," he winked at her and got up from the warm armchair, taking his broom and heading out from the common room.

"Wait, Oliver," she said and his heart stopped when her hand caught his, "Stay with me?" she asked and he knew he couldn't refuse. He knew that he would never be able to refuse anything she'd ask him to do. He nodded and sat on the carpet next to her, she put the tray on the carpet and conjured another glass of hot milk.  
She raised her glass and smiled at him, slowly sipping the milk he conjured for her, and for a moment there, she stopped and looked at him sipping the milk she conjured for him. He looked funny, a little white moustache was created above his upper lip, she giggled and then he stopped and stared at her.

"What?" he asked, worry in his eyes, she smiled and rather gracefully wiped his 'moustache' with her sleeve, not minding at all. He smiled and for a moment there she thought she saw him blushing. She was blushing herself, a strong shade of pink appearing on her cheeks, she chose to look away and took one of the cookies, slowly dipping it on the milk and eating it. He followed.  
Soon enough, there were two of them and one cookie left, Katie snatched it and held in with both hands, Oliver pouted.

"Can we share?" he asked her, she shook her head with a playful glint in her eyes. Not knowing how to interpret the mysterious glint, he smirked and reached for his wand, but she was faster and snatched it too. Oliver pouted again.

"Aww, come on, Katie, please?" he almost whined, she giggled and ran away from him- not very far though. Soon enough he cornered her against the wall, his body leaning on hers, preventing her from moving.

"Can I have the cookie, please?" he asked, still pouting, knowing exactly how cute it was and how easily every pout or smirk of his melted all the females in a million miles radius. She giggled.

"Only if you give me something in return," she challenged, Oliver smirked.

"And that would be?"

"A kiss," she said, blushing. He smiled and lowered his face to hers, pecking her on the cheeks, she blushed even more. He found it sweet and smirked again, it was a brief touch, not even intimate, but it was exciting no less.

"Can I have the cookie now?" he asked playfully himself, she shook her head.

"A real kiss, Oliver," she demanded and he felt as if his heart was about to burst out from his chest, as he slowly pressed his lips to her sweet lips. Her taste was heavenly, like winning a thousand Quidditch Cups, like soaring, sweeter than any chocolate the Honeydukes had to offer, warmer than any fireplace could warm, an event to remember…  
He stared down to her, smiling a little smile, she was the answers to all of his questions, and before she could move he kissed her again, not even noticing how the chocolate chip cookie fell from her hand to the carpet…

* * *


End file.
